Facets of life
by IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: Little moments from between the movies. Mostly OT and PT, mentions of TCW, no EU.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I decided to take these from my tumblr and publish them here. They are little snippets that the movies don't really have time to show. They are mostly canonical, or something that could have easily happened without changing the story.**

 **This is shortly after ANH, from Luke's POV**

* * *

It's cold on Yavin.

It's something Luke only really notices three days after the battle, after the adrenaline and the euphoria finally ebbs away and everything settles in.

It's cold. And wet. Luke generally doesn't have a problem with wetness, he is, after all, a child of the desert, he knows, in a way he suspects many here don't, just how much water and wetness is tied to life, how wonderful even one drop of water can be when one has traveled through long stretches of dry, hot sand. It's just... it feels strange, alien, somehow, to be surrounded by it, to be around people who accept water and the cool wind as if it's something natural, something that can be taken for granted.

Aunt Beru always said that water is a gift of the goddess. It's all Luke can think of when he sees Wedge leave half of his water, when they wash the X-Wings with real water instead of sonic waves, when he realizes that there are water showers here. Water is a gift of the goddess, and it should not be wasted.

Uncle Owen would have been more comfortable with this, probably, but then Uncle Owen was never quite as religious as Aunt Beru, never quite as tied to the desert. He was no child of the desert. Uncle Owens family had always been free.

This is another strange thing. Nobody here cares for the status of a person, nobody even seemed to realize that there are, in fact, still slaves in the galaxy. Luke is free, he has always been, just like Aunt Beru, but there are not... they are the freeborn children of slaves, raised in the desert culture of Tatooine while always knowing they are free, always being aware of the distinction, the fine line between free people and slaves. They are free children of the desert.

But Aunt Beru is dead, and so is Uncle Owen. He can't really process it yet, still wakes up sometimes expecting to see them in the kitchen, hear them shout for something. He gave them the funeral rites. Typical Tatooinian, which was difficult on Yavin, because there are no deserts here, but he managed. He's not sure whether giving Uncle Owen the desert funeral rites was right, because Uncle Owen was no child of the desert, but it's the only way Luke knows, and it felt right, so there's that.

Luke can't return to Tatooine, that is obvious, and he doesn't really want to, either. Tatooine was almost prison to him, a place that held him to close, to hard, that offered no change and no future. Yavin does. Yavin offers X-Wings and Leia and Han and Wedge and the other pilots, it offers adventure and friendship and a chance to change the galaxy. It's everything Tatooine was not, and at least for now, that's a good thing.

It's cold on Yavin, especially for a child of the desert. But Han offers to turn up the heat on the Falcon, and somehow Luke thinks that he might someday get used to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Because you can't tell me Leia didn't have a moment where she just broke down. Shortly after ANH, Leia POV**

* * *

The second morning After Leia wakes up, and for a moment she doesn't remember.

She wakes up slowly. The room is hotter than she is used to, she thinks dimly, maybe she should ask Annai, her handmaiden, too open a window. And why is it so loud? There aren't usually so many voices to be heard in Leia's room.

She opens her eyes. And suddenly she remembers. In that moment, it is as if a huge wave crashes over her and pulls her under, and for a few moments she feels like she's drowning. Leia's not a fan of such poetic rhetoric, has never been, she prefers practical, clear speech, but right then... it's the best way to describe it. The sheer intensity of both her anger and her grief hits her like a punch in the gut, only it doesn't stop. Everything hurts, and gods, she was tortured not three days ago, and she feels it again, she feels every single one of her bones, and she can't move, and some distant part of her brain realizes that she is going into a panic attack, but there is nothing she can do, no way to stop it.

When she finally stops seeing Alderaan exploding and interrogation droids, she is shaking and sobbing and she wants nothing more than to curl in a ball and die, so that she might meet mama and papa again in the afterworld, where Alderaan is whole and nothing hurts and where she can believe that everything will be alright. In this moment she wants to hate Luke and Han for rescuing her, for not letting her die when her whole life had already ended.

But she can't, because Leia's parents raised a strong young woman, and she remembers them too well to believe that they would support her decision to end her life, because it would feel like betraying them and everything they fought for to give up.

So she stands up. Her legs are weak, hardly carrying her, and she still feels every bone in her body, but she goes to the fresher. The clock shows lunchtime, which means that she probably lay in her bed sobbing for a few hours, and when she looks into the mirror, she can see it, sees her red swollen eyes and the dark rings under her eyes and the hopeless look on her face. But she also sees the necklace she's wearing, a present from her mother for her sixteenth life day, and in that moment she promises herself to continue fighting. Her life might have ended, and she might end up destroying herself, but she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to take the Empire with her. She owes that to her parents, to the whole planet of Alderaan.


	3. Chapter 3

**I really liked the Naberries, and have always wondered about what they thought about everything that happened. I mean, they must have had questions? Padme just turns up pregnant and dead and they just accept it?**

 **So, have some Sola Naberrie (Padme's older sister) POV at Padme's funeral.**

* * *

It was a beautiful funeral. Not that that really meant anything now. Sola's baby sister was dead, and no amount of pomp would bring her back.

Padme looked so peaceful, lying there, eyes closed as if she were sleeping, flowers woven in her hair and hands still clasped around that necklace she had loved so much. Sola had asked where the necklace had come from, more than once, but Padme had never answered, just smiled mysteriously and shook her head. At that time, Sola had been contend to let her sister keep a couple secrets, confident that she would come to her eventually, but now she wished she had pushed for those answers.

A tear slowly rolled down her cheek. Sola refused to wipe it away. It might not be proper, but her baby sister was dead. All the world should know her grief. And her guilt.

Padme had been pregnant. Her sister, her baby sister had been pregnant, and Sola had not known. How could she not have known? How could she not have realized something was wrong? She had talked to her not a week ago. Padme had seemed tired, but... Sola had believed her when she'd said she just had not slept enough. She should have pushed for answers. She didn't even know who the father was. She had suspicions, yes, of course. Padme had always been a bit too close to Anakin Skywalker, and Sola was quite sure she wasn't the only one who had noticed... but at the same time, Sola had not known Padme was pregnant. Her sister had managed to keep that from her completely. What were the odds that Padme had kept a lover from her? Maybe even a husband?

No, Sola decided. A lover maybe, but Padme would not have gotten married without telling her. Or would she? Sola's thoughts were going in circles, like they had since Bail Organa had first called to tell her about Padme. There was nothing to be earned here, no insight to be gained, but Sola couldn't help it. Her sister was dead. How could she not think about it?

She was not quite sure why it was Bail Organa who had called them. Sure, the man had been a close friend of Padme, but …. Sola wasn't even sure where she was going with this thought. Something was strange about it, from the statement that Padme had died of a sudden heart attack to the fact that she had died the day the Republic became the Empire. Bail had suggested that Padme's heart had broken when the Republic died, which sounded poetic, but wrong, and anyway, there had been a strange glint in the mans eyes, as if there was something he wasn't saying. But then again, his world had broken down as well, hadn't it? Maybe Sola was just desperate to see something that wasn't there, to make sense of the senseless death of her sister, to shift the guilt that lay on her shoulders like bricks. Maybe her sister had truly just suffered a heart attack. Maybe.

But Sola couldn't truly believe it, and she knew she never would. Not when her sister had been so young, so beautiful, so kind, and not when there was so much she, the older sister, the one who should have protected her, had not known.


	4. Chapter 4

**A bit of Bail Organa. He doesn't get enough love. Timeline is shortly after ROTS.**

* * *

The first two hours, the girl just screamed. Screamed as though she was in pain, as though everything was wrong, as though she was dying. Bail didn't know what to do. He did not exactly have any experience with newborns, and for all he knew, the girl might actually be in pain.

Bail had never really known what to think of the Force, other that it existed and was tied to the Jedi. Master Yoda had said that the girl was strong in the Force, whatever that meant. Maybe she had felt what had happened? Felt her mother's death, her father's fall, the separation from her brother? At very least the last one, Bail thought. The twins had shared a womb and were now on the way to different ends of the galaxy. Even a newborn like the little girl would notice that, even though she probably didn't really understand. It was cruel, to separate them like that, to tear them apart hours after their birth, but Master Yoda and Obi-Wan had agreed that it was best this way, and Bail wasn't going to question them, not now. Not when everything had fallen apart before his eyes, not when Padme was dead.

Gods, Padme. He still couldn't quite believe it. She had been a dear friend and a wonderful ally. In some corner of his mind she had always been the little sister he didn't have, fierce and brave and clever. And now she was dead. He would have to call her family, inform them of her death and bring her home. Bail had no idea what to tell them.

Finally, the girls cries quieted to a whimper. She sounded exhausted, the poor girl, and extremely sad. It fit Bails mood quite well. He had already commed Breha, so that his wife would not be surprised when he came home with a baby. Bail grimaced. That had been an … interesting conversation. Breha and him had been planning to adopt a child ever since they had learned that she couldn't have children, but they had never thought it would happen under such circumstances. His wife had cried the tears he was not yet ready to shed. Padme had been a dear friend to Breha, too.

Bail shook his head. Now was not the time to grieve. That would come later. Now he had to bring this little girl, his daughter ( _Padme's daughter_ ) home, he had to arrange a natural looking adoption and somehow come up with an explanation of all this that would not send the Naberries straight to his doorstep. It was not right to keep this from them, to keep Padme's children from them, but, as he and Obi-Wan had agreed, the Naberries were the very first address the Emperor would go looking if he ever wanted to find the twins. They had to be kept save. And to archive that, nobody could know.

Bail looked at the girl, now quietly lying in the makeshift bed he had made her out of a few blankets and pillows. She stared at him with big blue eyes. He knew, rationally, that a newborns eyes couldn't focus on anything farther than a few inches away from them, but in this moment, it seemed like her eyes were piercing him, as if she saw him exactly like he was and recognized him.

He stood up and lifted her into his arms. He was nervous, he really did not have much experience handling babies, but the girl stayed quiet, eyes on his face, so he probably didn't do too badly. Bail smiled. "Hello my Lelila," he said. "I'm sorry for all that has happened to you, and by the Gods, believe me, I wish it had not, I wish you could grow up with your brother. But I promise you, I am going to be the best papa I can be, and I am going to love you forever and always."


	5. Chapter 5

**I really like the Lars's, especially Beru. So here, have some Beru, shortly after ROTS.**

* * *

Luke was quiet. Almost too quiet, Beru thought, though she did not say that aloud. Neither her husband nor Master Obi-Wan (she should probably call him Ben, know, even though that would take some time to get used to) really had any idea what a newborn child should behave like, and so they didn't consider it strange, but Beru had been around babies her whole life. She knew that a child as young as Luke usually wasn't this quiet.

He missed his sister, she supposed. Master Obi-Wan said that their force-bond should be broken, that Luke probably wouldn't remember that he even had a sister, but Beru wasn't sure. There had always been ones with strange abilities among her people, some who knew the future, some stronger, quicker than the others. Most just knew things. Shmi had been like that. And she would bet her life that Luke was like that, too. Master Obi-Wan could go on and on about force sensitives, and he sure was the expert about all things Jedi, but Beru knew all that her aunts had taught her, all that Shmi had taught her. This little boy missed his sister. Luke knew his sister (Leia, Master Obi-Wan said her name was Leia) existed, like Shmi had known that her son was alive, even years after she'd last seen him, and Luke missed his sister.

Oftentimes, the boy just stared, looked around with big blue eyes (his father's eyes. Beru had only met Anakin Skywalker once, but she recognized his eyes immediately), sometimes almost as if he was searching something (someone), sometimes simply curious. Whenever she could, Beru took him in her arms. She'd take him outside, sitting down in the shadows of the market, where the children of the desert met, and tell him the stories of her people, while other children (some slaves, some freeborn, all children of the desert) listened and sometimes older people cut in to elaborate or tell another story. They were Luke's people too. Luke was Shmi Skywalker's grandson, the freeborn son of a slave. He was just as much a child of the desert as she was.

She did not have time for such visits in the town often. Owen and her had never been rich, and now, with an extra mouth to feed, almost every minute of her day was needed to keep the farm running. But Beru didn't complain. She had never planned on children, had always known that she could not have them, and so she took Luke as what he was: A gift of the goddess, her precious little boy. She had fallen in love with him quicker than she'd thought possible, and she knew that for all his gruff demeanor and all his nagging, Owen had, too.

Owen was a practical man. He'd always enjoyed listening to Shmi's stories, but he was no child of the desert, he did not really believe the stories. They were fairy tales to him, legends that were nice but no more important than the newest holo novel. He didn't truly understand. Beru loved him, she loved him with all her heart, but she had sworn to herself that she would raise Luke as the child of the desert that he was. For his grandmother, and for Beru, herself, too, because it was her heritage, too, and she wanted this boy, her boy, too know it.


End file.
